Sunday, February 27, 2011


8th Nov' 2002

Seek me,
my lovely muse
seep into
my eager hope
charm it
with a secret spell
and make it
want to live enthused.
Let grow
upon its land austere
the sapling
of a buried thought
fence it
from the brutal rage
that grips
a battling heart-shaped spear.
Don't feed it
nurse it
potions blind
else turn the soil
foul and soot,
lest grubby words
and needless weeds
foray into the
robust root.
Then sunshine,rain,
and weather stern
of lauding and rejection
will lead it
to the glowing skies
of polish and perfection!


  1. Another very powerful poem. Freshness of imagery startles and the snappy, racy style of expression rushes it through. You wonder, why it is over so soon.

  2. Thanks for the input, Sir. I guess the poem just unveils my impatience to reach the end! After two years of writing it, have I slowed down? Don't know....perhaps spaced out a bit...and perhaps that's what I need to add-the spaces-(to life and literature), in order to let the experience/s sink in.


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